


Nesting Habits and How to Fight Them

by memelessness



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe-Role Reversal, Angel!Crowley(Corviel), Barely not a drabble, Demon!Aziraphale(Ziraphon), Ineffable Husbands(Good Omens), Other, Reverse Omens, Roleswap AU, by 14 words, molting, moulting, reverse au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 00:10:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19982833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memelessness/pseuds/memelessness
Summary: Just like birds, angels and demons moult





	Nesting Habits and How to Fight Them

**Author's Note:**

> Please support all our works on [Our Collection](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/CorvielZiraphon)

Corviel rose out of bed with perhaps the worst headache ever (or rather just a pretty bad one, but because he could not remember the  _ intensity _ of times previous, it certainly felt like the worst). He held his head in silence, taking time to adjust to everything going on around him.

He’d recognized this feeling. The sweaty hands, the outrageously frizzy hair that refused to settle, even the uncomfortable feeling of his wings trying desperately to free themselves from the ethereal plane. He was moulting. Not to say that it was unexpected, though. The angel had always been very good about keeping track of his moulting schedule (as well as Ziraphon’s, because someone had to).

After many millennia, Corviel could easily say he had most things under control (taking aspirin for the headaches and keeping products on hand for the hair), even the more recent… sudden infatuations he’d have afterwards toward his demon lover, but the only thing he couldn’t control was the constant need to nest. 

The angel was so confident that the nesting habits would stop after they’d started cohabitating, but he kept fluffing a very well-fluffed pillow until it had reached maximum softness. The obsession was screaming to him, grinding away at the back of his mind. He had this absolutely compulsive need to rearrange  _ everything _ to make Ziraphon like him more. 

He looked to the other side of the bed, watching over his demon with gentle care as they continued to sleep in their bed… in their  _ nest _ , and smiled softly. He was about to lean closer, absolutely covering them in fluffed pillows and pile on blankets until they looked like a giant demon burrito, but he stopped himself. He knew that sometimes the demon did not want to be touched, and he respected it. Never would he make them wake up to an experience they don’t feel comfortable with.

But the need to nest still picked at his brain. He stood up slowly, making sure he didn’t disturb the sleeping demon as they clung to a stark white pillow, and made his way to the bathroom.

Corviel did this every moulting season; hiding in the bathroom, preening his wings, hoarding the feathers until he could make another pillow. He had standards for how he was supposed to look, after all, and didn’t want Ziraphon to see him in such a disheveled state… And once all was said and done, he’d stare in front of the mirror, splash his face with cold water, and tie his hair back far tighter than usual. 

Ziraphon had woken up while the angel was busy preening, immediately searching for his love. He could still feel their unique presence, but they just weren’t in sight. 

The demon sat up, looking over a few, blackened blue feathers that rest on the bed… had he been moulting? But they didn’t feel the headaches, or the sweating, or the overall discomfort that their entire corporation would experience. So where did these feathers come from? They straightened their back as the bathroom door swung open.

Corviel trudged out, overall feeling disgusted in his corporation as they held a garbage bag full of feathers. He smiled weakly at his love, waiting for the aspirin to kick in.

“I think I’m moulting?” Ziraphon held the black feather between their fingers, looking toward their angel with a slightly confused smile.

“What?” Corviel’s expression softened as he watched the pristine feather in quiet adoration. But they weren’t supposed to be moulting? Not now, at least… Were they  _ syncing?!  _ They didn’t look like they were moulting at all!

The angel looked at the black-cased pillow that rest beside the demon, the same dark feathers poking out of a hole. He pushed down the complete and utter embarrassment (because he  _ totally _ hadn’t been hoarding demon feathers these past few years), lifting his finger to patch it. Temporarily. He would have to sit down and fix it traditionally, but for now it reduced suspicion. 

Ziraphon watched his angel with an arched brow, allowing the feather to simply fall from his hand and onto the ground, “Are you alright, Darling?”

“Yup. Quite.” Corviel smiled weakly, walking over to the closet, “You don’t moult until spring.” He finished, opening the door.

“Are you… leaving your garbage in the closet?” The demon was genuinely concerned about the other’s actions… were they okay? Why were they hoarding?

Corviel tried not to feel hurt by this, because of course they didn’t know he was just trying to save his  _ feathers _ , “I. No. ‘Course not.” He tried to play it off as if it’d been nothing, “I was just…. Taking this… outside…” His tone sounded more deflated as the words were forced out.

“Angel, are you…” The words trailed off as they looked over Corviel, lips pursing slightly as they tried to figure out what was wrong. Then their eyes settled on the soft down that clung to the back of his legs.  _ Corviel was the one moulting! _ But that didn’t explain their own feathers scattered on the bed, “Hey, come here.” They’d figure that out another time. Right now, they had an obligation to comfort their angel. In sickness and in health (though they weren’t at all married, they definitely had a mutual codependence in each other).

The tired angel approached as if he’d been taking the walk of shame, taking his time to seat himself at the edge of the bed. 

Ziraphon just brought themselves closer, wrapping their arms carefully around Corviel as they buried their face into his back, “You’re staying in bed today.”

“But the sho-”

“No buts, other than your butt… Bed.”

Corviel let out a slow sigh, conceding to the idea of resting today as he settled himself next to the demon.

“Would you like me to get the harder-to-reach ones?” Ziraphon muttered quietly, running gentle fingers against their lover’s arm.

And he’d been found out. The angel had been so sure that he’d covered his tracks. He was so careful!

“Yes, please.” He spoke softly, closing his eyes as he gave into the blissful comfort. 


End file.
